Part 66

He retired to his bunk, and placing the bag under his pillow, was soon fast asleep. The other men followed his example, and Steve extinguishing the lamp, the forecastle surrendered itself to sleep.

At five o’clock they were awakened by the voice of Mr. Dodds. It was a broken, disconnected sort of voice at first, like to that of a man talking in his sleep; but as Mr. Dodds’ head cleared his ideas cleared with it, and in strong, forcible language straight from the heart he consigned the eyes and limbs of some person or persons unknown to every variety of torment; after which, in a voice broken with emotion, he addressed himself in terms of heartbreaking sympathy.

“Shut up, Sam,” said Harry in a sleepy voice. “Why can’t you go to sleep?”

“Sleep be ’anged,” said Mr. Dodds tearfully. “I’ve lorst all my money.”

“You’re dreamin’,” said Harry lightly; “pinch yourself.”

Mr. Dodds, who had a little breath left and a few words still comparatively fresh, bestowed them upon him.

“I tell you you haven’t lorst it,” said Harry. “Don’t you remember giving it to that red-’aired woman with a baby?”

“Wot?” said the astounded Mr. Dodds.

“You give it to ’er an’ told ’er to buy the baby a bun with it,” continued the veracious Mr. Pilchard.

“Told ’er to buy the baby a bun with it?” repeated Mr. Dodds in a dazed voice. “Told ’er to—— Wot did you let me do it for? Wot was all you chaps standin’ by an’ doin’ to let me go an’ do it for?”

“We did arsk you not to,” said Steve, joining in the conversation.

Mr. Dodds finding language utterly useless to express his burning thoughts, sat down and madly smashed at the table with his fists.

“Wot was you a-doin’ to let me do it?” he demanded at length of the boy. “You ungrateful little toad. You can give me that ’arf-suvrin back, d’ye hear?”

“I can’t,” said the boy. “I followed your example, and give it to the red-’aired woman to buy the baby another bun with.”

There was a buzzing noise in Mr. Dodds’ head, and the bunks and their grinning occupants went round and round.

“’Ere, ’old up, Sam,” said Pilchard, shaking him in alarm. “It’s all right; don’t be a fool. I’ve got the money.”

Sam stared at him blankly.

“I’ve got the money,” repeated the seaman.

Mr. Dodds’ colour came back.

“How’d you get it?” he inquired.

“I took it out of your pocket last night just to give you a lesson,” said Harry severely. “Don’t you never be so silly agin, Sam.”

“Gimme my money,” said Mr. Dodds, glaring at him.

“You might ha’ lorst it, you see, Sam,” continued his benefactor; “if I could take it, anybody else could. Let this be a lesson to you.”

“If you don’t grimme my money——” began Sam violently.

“It’s no good trying to do ’im a kindness,” said Harry to the others as he turned to his bunk. “He can go an’ lose it for all I care.”

He put his hand in his bunk, and then with a sudden exclamation searched somewhat hastily amongst the bedding. Mr. Dodds, watching him with a scowl, saw him take every article separately out of his bunk, and then sink down appalled on the locker.

“You’ve took it, Sam—ain’t—you?” he gasped.

“Look ’ere,” said Mr. Dodds, with ominous quietness, “when you’ve done your little game.”